At last I found the time to check back to the lively discussion about the closure of the Skjoldehamn shirt on pearl's livejournal. The discussion already made another webmaster put up more and larger pictures, so it is high time I post my promised photo.

Here you have the neck flap, in colour, with the bead as closure and the broken loop of wool thread that probably served to hold the bead:




If I remember correctly, the bead is made from metal. Here's an even closer closeup, where you can see that it is not a leather thong, but a woolen braid or something similar that holds the bead to the flap.



And finally, in the last picture, you can see the upper left part of the flap, with the braiding running along the edge. The stripes can be seen clearly here.



I took the photos myself; please respect copyright rules when linking to or using them.

Another day has raced past, and I only just remembered that I am still due a blog post. I have a good excuse, though, since I spent the day on the telephone (work-related) and preparing several pieces of written stuff. There is still a huge list on my blackboard, but at least I'm not feeling all overwhelmed anymore.

Somehow, having too many things to do will not result in frantic activity but in a state of mind (and body) rather like paralysis. Sometimes I wonder why that is so. There were times when I thought it was only me, and a sign of not being up to this or that, but I have found out since that it is a rather common thing. So at least I am not alone.

Overcoming this paralysis can be hard, though - especially when working on one's own in a cosy little study, with the internet and books and telephone and whatever else right there to distract and eat up time badly needed for work. Beginning might seem hard, but once the first task is done, the rest does get easier. But then, sometimes, it is better to take half a day off to sort through things in the mind, even if matters seem pressing.

For now, my list is adequately diminished for one day's work. There are a few things that I want to have finished by the end of the current week, even if I'm not sure this is possible, but I'll try my very best. And I have the good feeling of overwhelm overcome.

After finally designing (and getting printed) a new business card last year, now it is time to get some more promotional material. So these days see me surfing the web to catch up on the do's and don'ts for flyer and brochure design - like the Flyer Tutorials on allgraphicdesign.

I know that for a lot of small-scale freelancers, doing all the things needed for a business (even a tiny business) is exhausting and unnerving. For me, that is not so, and I count myself very lucky for that. While I don't actually enjoy bookkeeping and writing invoices and haggling for money, I know that it is part of the whole package, and I do it for me. Other things, like design work for advertisement or typography for texts? I love them. And it just adds to the beauty of the job, in my eyes, that I get to do something new and refreshing from time to time.

I have the basic concept ready, now I need to write the advertisement texts and spice it up with some pretty pictures. Both text and pictures will probably take a good bit of time, but fortunately it is not pressing yet. I want the flyers to be ready by end of February, so there is still some time to mull over the design in between other work - just the way I like to do these things.

Handsewn or machine sewn? For normal modern people, that is no question - a machine is faster and will almost guarantee you even, smooth stitches. When going into the living history field, things are different - machine sewn garments are then a sacrifice to modern style, to laziness, or to the fact that nobody has enough time for all those enticing projects and all the clothes needed. Or is that so?

When I started sewing for living history events, I was seventeen years old and had just gotten into the "medieval market" scene. My first piece was a hood - what else? It took me ages to stitch together the two halves of a hood (cut after a pattern drawing in a journal, not after an archaeological find). Even worse, the cloth was a mix of wool and polyester. But I had my first deep experience with hand-sewn clothing then, and I found that it really makes a difference.

Unlike modern patterns for clothing, medieval patterns are not designed with a sewing machine in mind. On the other hand, sewing technique is such an important thing in medieval tailoring that fabric, sewing thread and seam type were carefully matched together to get best results - this can be seen when comparing the extant medieval garments.

Choosing the right fabric for a pattern, and the right seamtypes for that fabric, is an essential part of historical tailoring and sewing. Which already answers part of the question that I hear regularly: Why do you sew by hand?

Historical patterns are not designed for sewing with a machine. Many stitches cannot be reproduced with a common household sewing machine at all (and not even a high-end one). In addition to that, hand stitches are much more versatile than machine stitches, and the beauty and functionality of good hand stitching are astonishing. On the Viborg Shirt*, up to eight layers of fabric are stitched together into a join that will lie absolutely flat - and this is even possible with thick, homewoven old linen. A hand-sewn seam will always look, fall and drape differently than a machine seam. And last but never least, it is much sturdier - as everyone who has ever picked a hand-seam apart will know.

Sewing by hand does of course take much longer than just running it through the machine. For an authentic presentation, however, handsewing is essential, and I can promise each hopeful beginner that he or she will have a wholly different attitude towards the hand-sewn garments, compared to something quickly machined together.

Here's a picture to whet your appetite for hand-sewn garments: It is one of my reproductions of St. Elisabeth's dress, sewn with linen thread from medium-thick wool twill. The hem is finished with a double row of running stitches and overcast stitching with inlaid wool yarn. Isn't this a nice thing to behold?



* There is a very thorough article on the shirt by Mytte Fentz, "En hørskjorte fra 1000-årenes Viborg" in KUML 1987; Årbog for Jysk Arkælogisk Selskab

I have a huge To-Do-List today, looming beside me on my blackboard. I hope the amount of chalk white will be reduced significantly by tonight.

At least I have made good progress during the last two days, with finally an idea for a catchy advertisement phrase (that will go on the flyer/brochure thing) and an amount of writing done. Furthermore, I had the pleasure of reading a very old print (from 1573) in the library, which is always something special.

Word count in Current Writing Project today is 5.021 words. I wrote a bit more yesterday, but most of that is lying in a different file, as notes, and waiting to be edited into text and transferred. Rest of yesterday's work was mostly reading and thinking. The outline and the thoughts relevant to it are finished, and I have a pretty good idea what can be achieved with this book and where it can go.

I love libraries. Especially those where you can keep the books for a long time.

Having studied in Bamberg, I grew used to the wonderful library there, with very friendly librarians, good light, lots of tables (and in the archaeologists' library building, with a wonderful view included) and very kind and fast service. There's the "book of wishes", for example: If you miss a book in the catalogue and think that the library should have it, you write it into the book, and most of the times, it gets ordered. (And then you get that wonderful book with a slip of paper between the pages, saying "Your Name" and "Erstausleihe" (first loan).) Thank you, TB 5 in Bamberg!

The library in Erlangen, on the other hand, has not too many books for my research. And those they have are all scattered across town, standing in smaller library rooms with often reduced opening times. A lot of those books can't be checked out. There's only one Erlangen feature I miss in Bamberg: You get an automatic email notification once your book is nearing the end of checkout time. Nevertheless, this wonderful feature won't help anything if the book can't be checked out.

And that is the main reason I'm still going to Bamberg now and again: The wonderful library. (I don't mind at all that it also gives me the chance to have coffee and a chat with friends and colleagues there, too, during much-needed library breaks.) And today is library day, so I'm on my way to the car, lugging along a stack of books that need to be returned (or, in some cases, checked out again). And I'll come back home with even more books.

Somehow, that nasty paperwork stuff has a tendency to agglomerate on my desk. I have a stack of urgent, semi-urgent and non-urgent paperwork stuff to occupy myself with, and I really feel like I should tackle it today. If not yesterday.

Well, usually I am glad about any pronounced drive to do paperwork. The problem is that I have dedicated this week to work on Current Writing Project, and I want to stick with that decision. I have given myself an incentive to get a chunk of work done, shaping the project and doing the groundwork, and that is what I want and need to do. Current Writing Project is coming along nicely, by the way, sporting 3412 words at the moment.

Still, those urgent paperwork things nag me and nibble at the back of my conscience daily. Do you know that situation? Do you have a fail-safe, fool-proof, wonderful way of dealing with that? If so, please tell me about it!